Let's Live on Dreams
by Maska
Summary: Percy loves Marguerite. Marguerite loves Percy. Chauvelin loves Margerite. But who loves Chauvelin?
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone. Welcome to my first SP fic...

Let me introduce myself... I'm Maska and have only written a couple of Phantom fics before so this is pretty new. I'm a bit of a Chauvelin fan... is he not just the most amazingly cool bad guy ever?

Well basically the jist of this is that the events of SP take place but with a new character, who plays rather a crucial role in the events that unfold... the untold story one might say. Starting off, it was meant to be a combination of book, film and musical. In actual fact it's more like the musical plot than anything else but there are going to be elements from the others. And one more thing...yes I do know that Chauvelin's actual name is Armand but I've used the film name of Paul instead. Only for the simple reason that Armand St. Just will feature and I would rather not have two Armands. I don't know about you but it would confuse me so there we go.

Anyway, I've wittered too much so here we go... any comments would be appriciated.

**Chapter 1**

Lucie did not believe in love. She had good reason not to. She had been used and abused so many times in her life, she had come to hate men, often wishing that the plague that snaked through Paris would come for her.

It had all started several years ago when she was only sixteen. While many of her friends were married Lucie had no-one. Not because she was plain, in fact she was one of the prettiest girls in her neighbourhood and had many suitors, but simply because she was sensible and would not marry someone for convenience. She had believed in love then. Her heart had been claimed by one Gerrad Moral who had enticed her to his bed with declarations of love and promises of marriage. But he soon grew bored with her and left her alone and shunned by her family and friends for her loss of innocence. Starving and desperate for money, she was forced to sell her body and haunted the streets, victim to a bullying pimp and men who saw her a tool. The revolution had changed something though. Paris was still a diseased and infested hole but there were opportunities for her. She had managed to get a job as a dancer at the Comedie Francais, although not the best paid job, it was stable and it was from here that Lucie concentrated on getting a life back. However this night would change everything for Lucie. It was one night after a performance at the Comedie Francais when it would happen. When her life would never be the same again.

It was normal after the performance for the patrons to go backstage and mingle with the actors and dancers. Despite the new 'equal' post-revolution society, the more sophisticated the patron, the better the actress that entertained him. There were rumours that an English aristocrat often visited the star Marguerite St. Just almost every evening. However there were no aristocrats for Lucie and for that she was grateful. It most certainly would not look good for a revolutionary to start fraternising with aristocrats whatever nationality they may be. Unfortunately for her, she was hounded by a less than desirable man by the name of Lemark. Every night he would be backstage trying to tempt her to bed. Lucie had managed to escape from him once that evening but he had once again found her had had her cornered in a passage, far from anyone who could hear her.

'Come Lucie,' he said. 'Let's have no more games.'

As he spoke, he ran a finger down her cheek, making her flinch in disgust. It reminded her of the way in which her ex-clients would treat her.

'Please, I am flattered,' Lucie replied, trying not to make eye contact. 'But I must go.'

'Lucie my dear. You have to go every night. Not tonight,' Lemark said leaning forward to kiss her.

Suddenly Lucie caught sight of a man moving down a nearby corridor and an idea quickly formulated in her mind.

'I'm meeting my brother,' she said quickly, pulling back from Lemark.

Lemark looked amused

'You surely don't expect me to believe that-'

'Brother!' Lucie cried breaking out of Lemark's grip and ran towards the man and kissing his cheeks.

As she pulled away the man showed utter confusion. He was tall and handsome with dark hair and carried a large bouquet of flowers. Lucie looked into his eyes, silently begging for him to help her. His gaze left Lucie's face and saw Lemark approaching behind. He understood quickly.

'Sister!' he cried. 'Where have you been? And who is this man?'

'I am Citizen Lemark-'

'I don't care what your name is,' the man said. 'I simply request that you stay away from my sister.'

Lemark opened his mouth to protest but under the man's icy blue stare he thought better of it.

'Goodbye Lucie,' he said turning and striding down the passage.

As soon as he was gone, Lucie turned to her rescuer.

'Thank you Citizen,' she said. 'If you hadn't come when you did-'

'It was my pleasure,' the man replied. 'Do you often have trouble with him?'

'Yes, yes I do. Lucie Dubois,' she added after a pause, offering her hand.

The man took it and kissed it gently.

'I am honoured to have met you Madamoiselle Dubois,' he said.

Lucie's heart was pounding inside her. Not for years had she met a person who was so charming. A man that did not seem to think of sex when he laid eyes on her.

'If you are to ever need anything again, you will find me at 23 Rue de Planchet.'

'Thank-thank you,' Lucie stuttered

'Well goodbye,' he said, plucking a flower from his bouquet and handing it to her. 'A brave girl.'

He began to walk away.

'Wait!' Lucie cried after him. 'Who should I ask for?'

The man looked at her for a moment, his eyes searching her as if to study her integrity.

'Paul Chauvelin,' he said finally and continued to walk away.

'Paul Chauvelin,' Lucie whispered to herself. 'Paul Chauvelin.'


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, me again. Thank you very much for all the reviews... very much appriciated

**Anonymous (Randomness): **Thank you for being very honest. I re-read everything again after your comments and I can can see where you are coming from with Lucie acting like a Mary-Sue and Chauvelin being out of character. This is a Chauvelin dedicated chapter and I think that he is more in character. Lucie will reappear in the next one, maybe still a bit Mary- Sue-ish. I'm afraid you will have to put up with it for a while but she does have flaws...they just come out a little later. As for the Lucie not being a French name, blame that on Dickens... it's my tribute to 'A Tale of Two Cities'

**Nota Lone: **I still love book Chauvelin... but I admit that play/ film Chauvelin is cooler...he's just so charming. I highly recommend the film even though the couple I've seen take a few liberties with the book.

**Anonymous (TOMTN): **Chauvelin forever! Yay! He is simply a cool villian. I like him because he can be so charming when he wants to be and can manipulate almost any situation into his favour.

I forgot to credit her in my first chapter but many thanks to my wonderful beta Citizen Chauvelin

**Chapter 2  
**Chauvelin was less than happy when he left Marguerite's dressing room that evening. In fact he had just had an incredibly bad day. During the day, he had been reprimanded by the Committee of Public Safety for not capturing the Scarlet Pimpernel who had once again made another daring, and although he loathed to admit it, very successful rescue. He had been given a new task with strict instructions to succeed with. Chauvelin knew only too well that if he was not successful arresting the Marquis de St Cyr and having him executed, he would take the Marquis' place on the scaffold. In order to calm his nerves, he had gone to visit Marguerite. They had been lovers for a while after the Storming of the Bastille but once Marguerite had got her job in the Comedie Francais, she had sworn abstinence until she was married. Chauvelin though had never given up hope that she loved him and would visit her almost every night with flowers and other gestures.

But this night, he had been unfortunate enough to discover Sir Percival Blakeney, a foppish English aristocrat, entertaining Marguerite. Chauvelin had only met Blakeney once before at one of Marguerite's parties in which the aristocrat had been very rude about his cravat as if it was the most  
important thing in the world. Blakeney was one of those aristocrats that Chauvelin could not stand, the proud sort who acted as if everybody was beneath them and felt as if they could waltz around and take whatever they liked. Once Blakeney had gone, Marguerite had seemed somewhat distant, not focusing on her conversation and obviously lost in a world of her own. Chauvelin had felt very deflated when he left, thinking that there was no-one in the world who was grateful for all the work that he did for them.

'However,' Chauvelin mused to himself. 'There was that one dancer that seemed to be grateful I was around.'

His thoughts turned to Lucie Dubois for a moment before he was disturbed by a pair of feet running up the street behind him.

'Citizen Chauvelin!' a voice called. 'Citizen-'

'I can hear you!' Chauvelin snapped, turning around and facing the man who had caught up with him and was now gasping for breath.

'Degas, what do you want?' Chauvelin asked the man.

'Citizen, you have been summoned by Citizen Robspierre(. He wishes to see you) immediately.'

'Whatever for?' Chauvelin fumed. 'Does he know what time it is?'

'Citizen, he says that it's urgent.'

Chauvelin sighed in frustration and followed Degas to the building where the Committee of Public Safety meetings were held. Robspierre was sitting at his desk and writing and looked up as Chauvelin entered.

'Thank you for coming Citizen. I hope that I did not disturb you in the middle of something important?'

Chauvelin bit his lip.

'I am always available for the Committee Citizen,' was Chauvelin's only response.

'Good, good,' Robspierre replied, signing his name at the bottom of a piece of paper and sealing it. 'Following our little discussion this morning, I have some information that may be useful to you.'

Chauvelin winced as he recalled the threatening meeting he had faced that morning with members of the Committee.

'The Pimpernel, so I am told, is English.'

Chauvelin gave a quick start.

'English?' he repeated numbly.

'An English aristocrat.'

'I see,' was Chauvelin's only comment.

He turned the information over in his head. That made life far simpler. He was looking for an Englishman.

'Have you had an enjoyable evening Citizen?' Robspierre asked.

'I went to the theatre, Citizen,' Chauvelin responded, wondering where the conversation was leading.

'And what did you think of the performance?'

'I went to watch Marguerite St. Just more than anything.'

'Of course,' Robspierre said. 'Of course. She will be greatly missed.'

'Missed?' Chauvelin repeated.

'When she is married,' Robspierre said

'Married?'

Robspierre put down his pen.

'You mean that you didn't know? Marguerite St. Just is leaving tomorrow to be married. To an Englishman co-incidently.'

Chauvelin gripped the arms of his chair. Marguerite, to be married? He had no doubt that it was a union with that demmed fool Blakeney. It felt as if someone had ripped Chauvelin's heart out and was parading it for all to see. And she had never told him? The hurt was almost too much.(Ah! My heart bleeds for you, man!)

'Citizen?' Robspierre said. 'Are you alright?'

'Y-yes,' Chauvelin stammered. 'It is just a surprise to me, that is all.'

'I am sorry,' Robspierre said. 'I thought that you knew. Since you are such intimate friends with her. I only knew because my mistress overheard them.'

Chauvelin looked up and smiled weakly.

'Is there anything else Citizen?' he asked, trying to stop his voice from wobbling.

'No. I will see you tomorrow.'

Chauvelin got out of his chair and left the building. His shock had turned to sadness, then to anger. He glanced across the road at the Comedie Francais. He would take some sort of revenge on Marguerite, but how?


End file.
